pengyoufandomcom-20200214-history
Chapter 12
Previous Chapter Dan wanted to tell his own heartbeat to shut up. He wasn't feeling suicidal or anything. It was just too loud. After an uncomfortably long period of time, the cop finished his coffee, bumped his motorcycle's kickstand up, and drove off. Dan crawled out of a dumpster. It was mostly filled with papers, but it still stunk. After he left the library, Dan didn't dare go back to his apartment. As such, he had no belongings left except the clothes on his back and what little money was left in his wallet. That much he could deal with, but there was another issue at hand. Somewhere around the twentieth hour of constant vigilance - which added up to about thirty of being awake - the stress started getting to him. A persistent ache made itself known along his back and shoulders, his stomach constantly called for food, and his eyes occasionally twitched in tune to his thunderous heartbeat. Some might call it a blessing that he didn't simply nod off in some dark alley, but the fact was, the police weren't exactly locking down the area to flush him out. Sure, he was a gunman on the loose, but no one really felt bad for the criminal he killed. On top of that, it seemed they were distracted by something else. Something about a meteorite crater. In any case, the cops weren't the problem. There was someone else following him. At the library, the only thing Dan could concentrate on was his conviction to kill another human being. When he lost sight of whomever was watching him, he assumed the figure had just gone away. But instead of "going away," the figure stayed to witness Dan's first and second ever human kills, and then proceeded to stalk him, grinding him down with the weapons known as hunger, fatigue, and paranoia. Sudden movement. Dan barely registered a black hood and crooked grin before his wrist flicked. A gunshot shattered the silence of the street, setting off a clanging as it passed through a hollow trash can. A smoking pistol was in his shaking hand, but the cloaked entity was nowhere to be seen. Sirens sounded from dangerously close by, prompting Dan to run while massaging his sore hand. He wasn't sure how many blind shots his wrist could take, or if it would even accomplish anything. The being stalking him had the peculiar ability to break line-of-sight very easily. A blink, a head jerk, and it was gone. Once, it simply stood there for a few seconds, smirk barely visible in the shadows, before Dan's focus mysteriously wavered, and then it disappeared. Although he was glad he didn't hit any civilians, he realized his mental health was deteriorating quickly. Normally, he wouldn't even think of blind firing in town. If something didn't give soon, he wouldn't last. Just about when he thought he was safe from the police again, Dan felt that aggravating presence again. "COME OUT!" he exploded. "Come out and tell me what you want already! Say something! Or what, you got something stuck in your throat? I'll clear it with a freakin' bullet!" A chuckle. Dan whirled, pistol in hand. To his surprise, it wasn't the hooded figure. He berated himself for not checking for bystanders (again), but then realized the other guy wasn't just an ordinary civilian. For one, the man looked amused in the face of a gun. For another, he looked as young as Dan, but wore a clearly expensive three-piece suit with such an easy swagger that he might as well have been born in it. His clothes, combined with his pale skin and coal-colored hair and eyes, made him look like a black-and-white portrait of a billionaire bachelor. The man sauntered over, completely ignoring the gun pointed at him. As he was about to stop in front of Dan, he reached into his coat. Dan's finger tightened, but hesitated when he saw the business card thrust in front of him. "You look like you've had a long day. Looking for a new job?" the man asked. "Maybe. What you got?" Dan asked in a noticeably quieter voice. Dan wasn't sure what to think of the man, but he got the feeling he was being offered a less-than-normal job. If he ever got rid of his stalker, he would still be an outlaw, making it hard to find a normal source of income. He slipped his gun into his pocket and dematerialized it there, taking the card with his other hand. The man's smile widened slightly and he began his spiel. "At Antiquities Xtraordinaire, we deal in historical treasures from all over the world. Research, retrieval, and ah, replication. You know, as souvenirs." A wink. Dan suspected black market "souvenirs" were quite pricey. "If you're interested, just show up at your local AX Corp office and show them my card. No need for resumes. Right now, we're mostly looking for 'freelancers.' Combat experience is recommended but not required. If that's not your thing, we have plenty of other positions too." "I'll think about it. For now, I got my own... problems to deal with." Dan shifted his weight anxiously, suddenly wondering how much of this the stalker could hear. "Well, a good drink always seems to help. I just came from a bar down the street called the Eye of the Storm." "I'm not twenty-one." "That's okay," the man said without missing a beat, "Just ask for a Roland Blanco. You won't be disappointed." "If you insist." The man continued wearing his knowing smile. He could see Dan's desperation, even if his voice and words pretended otherwise. Dan didn't like it, but both of them knew he didn't have any other options. "Name's Monochrome. Pleasure meeting you." The man held out a hand. "Iliad," came Dan's reply, along with a firm grasp. After watching the man walk out of sight, Dan looked back down at the business card in his hand. It read, "Monochrome, Chief Executive Officer of Antiquities Xtraordinaire Corporation," along with an office address, e-mail, and phone number. He actually has a one-word name? And he's a CEO?! Dan thought to himself. After staring a moment, Dan put the card away and walked in the direction the man came from, now wondering what kind of drink a Roland Blanco was. Next Chapter